


Dear Ayda

by The_Golden_Trashcan_TM



Category: Dimension 20, Fantasy High
Genre: gets kinda better toward the end, it's starts out sad, ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM/pseuds/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM
Summary: Ayda is rapidly losing her memory as she writes in order to preserve it
Relationships: fig and ayda, figayda - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Dear Ayda

Ayda was trying not to panic. She had Fig’s drumsticks and her earing and her bass. She had everything she needed, but it was fading fast. The memory of Fig.

Her hand flew across the page, writing even when her hand cramped and tears made her vision too blurry to see. She had to get this down. She had to write down Fig’s legacy.

Ayda felt something leave her and she suddenly couldn’t recall the first time she’d met Fig.

She wrote faster, wiping her eyes and switching hands. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to remember her paramour. Someone was knocking at the door, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop if she wanted any chance to save Fig’s memory.

The memory of Fig’s smile was fading. The tears fell faster and she wrote through the pain.

The knocking at the door became more persistent and someone was yelling. Perhaps it was Fabian or maybe it was Gorgug, but she was too focused to care. She had to write faster.

The smell of Fig’s hair was gone.

She started to slow, the pain in her hand winning the battle and she switched again, flexing and relaxing the offended hand. There was so much more to write. There was so much of Fig, Ayda couldn’t hope to write it all down, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try.

The door began to shake and her head began to pound and the first kiss they shared began to leave her.

She picked up pen to write again, but as she stared down at the paper, there was nothing coming to her. In fact, she couldn’t recall why she had been writing to hurriedly in the first place. Or why she was crying so hard for that matter.

She stared down at the journal, at the note that taped over it, reading over the words, but they had no meaning to her. Whoever Figueroth Faeth was, she couldn’t have mattered that much if Ayda couldn’t even call up an image of her.

The door burst open and Gorgug was standing there, panting and sweaty, ax in hand as he looked around the room.

“Ayda? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He stared at her like she was crazy, looking around the room. His eyes landed on a bass guitar, a pair of drumsticks, and then her. His face fell, and he looked close to tears. “You couldn’t do it, could you?”

“Do what? Gorgug, what’s going on?”

Behind him peaked a small, red teifling in punk rock clothes and combat boots. She looked as confused as Ayda felt.

“Gorgug, what are we doing here?”

“I thought— I hoped…” He trailed off, leaving the three of them in a heavy silence. His face suddenly contorted into a snarl as he turned and ran off, more fury in his form that Ayda could ever remember seeing.

Ayda stood, seeing the teifling stand awkwardly at her door. “I’m Ayda Aguefort.”

“Uh, Fig Faeth.”

Ayda glanced at the journal, then back at Fig. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Ayda held up the note that had been taped to the journal, letting Fig read the words, “There is nothing in this world that will make you truly forget Fig. She is your paramour. And she means everything to you.”

Fig blushed, looking at Ayda, then at the floor.

“Will you help me figure this out?”

She cleared her through, picking gently at the hem of her jacket. “I mean, yeah if I’m apart of it. Wouldn’t hate spending some time with you.” She winked, then her face went slack. Ayda knew her expression mirrored Fig’s as Ayda blinked, trying to figure out why she’d had such an intense wave of déjà vu.

She shook herself out of it and said, “We’ll figure this out together?”

Fig smiled. “Together.”


End file.
